


Grumpy Vincent

by littlemissvincentvega



Series: Vince's Princess ♥ [8]
Category: Pulp Fiction (1994)
Genre: California, Daddy Kink, Disney, Disney World & Disneyland, Disneyland California, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, McDonald's, Romantic Fluff, Sugar Baby, Sugar Daddy, Teasing, Vacation, grumpy daddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 14:46:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18251978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemissvincentvega/pseuds/littlemissvincentvega
Summary: you and your boyfriend Vincent are on vacation at Disneyland together, finally getting some time to yourselves ♥





	Grumpy Vincent

“Uhh… a Royale with Cheese– actually, can I get two of those? Thank you,” your boyfriend says, forcing a smile at the cashier. The two of you are at Euro Disney for some time away. Vincent works as a hitman and is usually pretty busy (although the pay is nothing to complain about), so you don’t usually get to spend so much time together. 

He had been complaining about being hungry and you had given up trying to get him to take you to Annette’s diner -  _“I ain’t waitin’ in line, I’m fuckin’ starvin’ over here. C’mon, let’s go to McDonald’s, baby.”_

You tug on his sleeve, giving him puppy dog eyes. “Get me a milkshake?”

“And a large milkshake please? Yeah, vanilla, thanks– oh, and a coke.”

“Is that all?” asks the cashier, and Vincent nods. “ €8.40, please sir.”

“Ooh, sir,” you whisper to him, sniggering as he pays. He smirks, thanks the cashier and the two of you step aside to wait for your food. You nibble on the Mickey pretzel he had bought you, him looking around at people’s food longingly. “Jesus, Vince, anyone would have thought you don’t get fed.”

“Fuck you.”

“Order 217?” an employee shouts, and Vincent’s head snaps up. He speedwalks over to the counter and returns with the tray of food and drinks, looking smug as ever. 

“C’mon, go find a table for us, baby.”

“What did your last slave die of?” you huff, heading to an empty table near the outdoor seating area, and the two of you sit down. He pretends to shoot you with finger guns and makes pathetic little shooting noises, smirking. Watching him unwrap his Royales, you sip your milkshake. “Mmmmm… yummy.”

“Why thank you, baby.”

“Fuck you, I mean the milkshake.”

 

After about fifteen minutes, you’re both done eating, and you walk out clinging onto his arm. “Where’d you wanna go then, honeypie?”

“Fantasyland! I wanna go on It’s a Small World. But then I want us to go on Thunder Mountain.”

“Whatever you want, princess,” he says, and you both make your way down Main Street, marvelling at just about everything, then to Fantasyland. You hear a loud  _‘tick’_ followed by a loud _‘tock’_ , and turn around to see the Small World ride looming in the distance.

“It’s over there!” you grin, taking Vincent’s hand and dragging him to the line excitedly.

“Christ, baby, don’t be makin’ me run like that,” he says when you get in line, “you’ll cut my life short. I’ll have a heart attack or some shit.”

“Cut your life short? So it wouldn’t be anything to do with your smoking?”

He shrugs. “Just sayin’.”

You grin at his stupidity, peck him on the lips and wait in line patiently. After you’ve waited about fifteen minutes or so, it’s your turn to get on the boat, and Vincent helps you in like the gentleman he is (or rather the gentleman he is when he WANTS to be). “Thank you, darling,” you smile.

He gets in beside you and as the other people pile on behind you (luckily, you get to sit in the front), you take off your cardigan and hold it in your lap. “Nice view,” Vincent remarks, and you grin, slapping his arm playfully - you’re wearing a strappy top today, so there’s a considerable amount of cleavage going on. He decided to bring you in summertime, and today it’s fairly warm in Paris.

“Behave, there’s kids here,” you giggle.

His gaze moves from your tits to your eyes. “Sorry baby, can’t help myself,” he titters, resting his hand on your thigh.

By now, everyone is safely on the boat, and it begins drifting along. You enter the black tunnel, and as the sweet song becomes clearer, you rest your head on Vincent’s shoulder, taking in the beautiful fluorescent lights and dancing dolls. He drapes his arm around you and kisses your temple, and the two of you point at the different sights, smiling all the way. 

When the boat leaves the last room, you sit up and try to pronounce the different ways of saying ‘goodbye’ that are in the tunnel - “Thot– no,  _tot_  ziens?” you say, squinting at the sign. “Vince.” You prod him (he’s looking at the other signs).

“What?”

“Tot ziens,” you grin at him.

“Tot what?”

You point back at the sign. “Tot ziens! I think it means goodbye.”

“Oh.” He turns around and cranes his neck to read one before it goes out of view. “Au revoir,” he smirks, turning to face you.

“Ahh, bien,” you giggle, kissing his cheek. 

As the boat reaches the exit, Vincent gets out and takes your hand to help you. “Thank you, Prince Charming,” you snigger, and he smirks, slinging his arm around you and squeezing your ass briefly. “Vince! There’s  _kids!”_

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“You’re such a shit. C’mon, I wanna go on Thunder Mountain.”

“Suck my ass, I ain’t fuckin’ runnin’ again.”

You look up at him. “I didn’t ask you to!”

“Just makin’ sure,” he says - he has that smug look plastered on his face, the one that means he knows he’s pushing your buttons. You both saunter across to Frontierland. It’s a bit of a walk, but you’re enjoying the sunshine and the company (Vince is also enjoying the attention you two are getting from passersby, but what’s new?).

 

As you approach the rustic entrance to Frontierland, excitement fills you and you speed up a little. Captain Hook spots you walking past and points his hook hand at you - giggling, you stick your tongue out at him. 

“I think it’s this way,” Vincent says, shielding his eyes from the sun and pointing towards a dusky orange plateau in the distance.

“Oh, that’s definitely it!” you beam, dragging him to the ride. You join the back of the line and rock back and forth on your tiptoes excitedly.

“Jesus, baby, you done a line of coke before this?”

“No! I’m just  _excited!”_

As you’re looking round, you spot a little boy looking at you - he must have been about five or six years old, you thought. He’s staring at your Minnie ears that you had begged Vince to buy you when you first got here. Smiling at him, you nudge Vincent. “Look, I made a friend.”

Vincent looks at the boy. “That’s a first,” he smirks, and you pretend to punch his arm. 

“Fuck off! I have plenty of friends.”

“Oh yeah, who?”

You stop and think for a second. The friends you had before meeting Vincent didn’t approve of you two, what with him being twice your age and a hitman, so you didn’t really speak to them anymore. “…Mia!”

“Baby, that’s one person.”

“No head for you tonight, then, you can fuck off.”

He smirks at you as the line moves forward. “Did I tell you that you look really pretty today?”

You cross your arms in a huff. “No, you called me a filthy whore.”

“Shut up, you loved that,” he sniggers, holding your ass as you follow the people in front.

“I know– get off!”

As the line stops again, you stand opposite Vincent and look him up & down - he’s wearing an ‘I’m just here to pay for everything’ Disney shirt he thought would be funny to buy with some scruffy, baggy gym shorts. Smiling, you let him wrap his arms round you, cradling you, and you clutch onto his shirt over his chest. “I wish we could do this more often,” you sigh, looking up at him.

“How about… when I get a little break again - which won’t be long, Marsellus fuckin’ adores me - I take you to the Bellagio hotel, get us a nice expensive room, we can have a romantic dinner in a different restaurant every night, visit the casino, relax by the pool and drink all day… that sound good, honeypie?”

You nod, looking up at him in awe. “I’d love that,” you smile.

He kisses your forehead and strokes your cheek briefly. “You’re fuckin’ spoilt, baby, you know that?”

“ _You_ came onto  _me!”_ you protest, flicking him in the nose. “And  _you’re_  the one that  _chooses_ to spoil me!” He smirks, satisfied with provoking you. “You’re an asshole,” you huff.

“Carry on like that and I’m not takin’ you to Vegas.”

“Carry on like  _that_ and I’ll never flash you my tits again.”

Vince gives you a look of defeat after your retort, and you giggle and grab his hand, swinging it back and forth happily. After at least another twenty minutes of you two waiting in line, he had become a little restless, not being able to stand still. “What’s up with you?” you ask, leaning against the wall.

“We’ve been waitin’ for like half a fuckin’ hour and we’re not even close to the front.”

“So? We’re in Disneyland, we have to wait for things.”

He looks around impatiently, clearly searching for some kind of indicator of waiting times.

“Darling, it said there was a 70 minute wait time on the sign.”

“What sign?” 

“The one outside. I saw it before we came in.”

“So why didn’t you fuckin’ say?”

“It’s only 70 minutes, Vince, pull the stick out of your ass and stop acting like a baby!” you say, rolling your eyes.

He shoves his hands in his pockets in a sulk and leans against the wooden barrier. "Y'know, we come all the way out here for a nice vacation, and this. This is what we get. We get 70 minutes. We’re gonna wait for this thing for 70 minutes. You understand my qualms with this, don’t you baby?” he huffs, tail between his legs.

“Yes, sweetheart, but there’s only 40 minutes left to wait, so be a good daddy and shut the fuck up complaining,” you smirk, standing on your tiptoes and kissing his cheek.

“You’re a bossy little shit, aren’t you?”

“You’re one to talk, how the hell does Jules put up with you?” you scoff, trailing after the people in front as the line advances. He follows you and adjusts your Minnie ears, then fluffs up your hair. You screw up your face in a silly smile. “Why don’t you just get some yourself?”

“It’ll mess up my hair,” he replies.

“Your hair’s already a greasy mess, Vince.”

“Shut the fuck up, you love my hair!”

“ _Pleeeeease_ get some Mickey ears!” you beg, tugging on his shirt and looking up at him innocently, but he just looks at you with that smug smile of his.

“Maybe.”

 

About half an hour passes and you two are close to the front of the line. Vincent looks nowhere near as excited as you, but you don’t care - you cling onto his arm, grinning from ear to ear. “See? It’s never as long a wait as they make it out to be,” you say, resting your head on his upper arm.

“Wow, a whole  _ten minutes!”_ he says sarcastically, smirking to himself. A few minutes later, you’re lucky to be at the very front of the line, which means you get to sit at the front again. You stand clutching your boyfriend’s arm, fidgeting with excitement, when he turns to one of the staff members. “’Scuse me.”

“Yes, sir?” he replies.

“Me and my girl here’ve been waitin’ for at least an hour for this ride.”

“Well, we do have the board outside that says the waiting times.”

“You should uh, maybe put some seats or somethin’ in the waitin’ area, my legs are fuckin’ achin’ after that. Yeah, you oughta do somethin’ about that,” Vincent mumbles, and you mouth ‘I’m so sorry’ at the employee, who awkwardly smiles back.

“Yes, we’ll look into it. I’m sorry for the long wait, this is a popular ride - the waiting times are sometimes even longer.” As he says this, the runaway train pulls up and empties of people, their hair windswept and cheeks flushed with adrenaline and laughter.

The staff member directs you two to get in, and Vincent helps you climb in, joining afterwards and slinging his arm around you. “Ahh,” he sighs, “much better.”

“Sorry about the wait, daddy,” you whisper, kissing his cheek and smiling into it. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

You and Vince are staying in the Disneyland Hotel, and he had made sure to book the Sleeping Beauty Suite. He smirks, looking at you. “I’ll make you feel like a real fuckin’ princess,” he growls into your ear, and as you gasp, the ride shoots off.

**Author's Note:**

> I LVOED DOING THIS LMAO but thank u @casstayinmyass for the ‘70 minutes’ quote it was fuckin brill adnslkdas i love vincent


End file.
